


Hell Or Highwater I'm Coming Home To You

by Cecil_G_P



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Emotional Comfort, Hopeful Ending, M/M, as in theres depression and a suicidal thought or so, by general audiences i mean there's no sex or violence, however it is a kinda heavy fic, very much a vent piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 19:46:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14244453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cecil_G_P/pseuds/Cecil_G_P
Summary: Even with all the coping mechanisms in the world not all days can be good days and sometimes thinking of death isn't a violent sadness but the quiet realization that you have to live every day to make it though the rest of your life.





	Hell Or Highwater I'm Coming Home To You

Juno’s got an exhaustion he can’t quite kick. It’s always there, no matter how much sleep he gets, or the nutritional value of the food he eats, or the exercise he goads himself into doing. Sometimes, finishing a case alleviates some of it, the sense of accomplishment carrying him as far as it can until he remembers all the little ways it could have gone better, all the ways the happy ending could have been happier.

And all these little things, the sleep the diet the exercise the work, they keep him functional. They keep him from losing it all together. But they’re all difficult and require energy and sometimes they slip by the wayside. Sometimes it seems futile to keep these efforts up at all, not when he can feel the cracking deep inside of him, know that it’s only slowing the structural cracking but not stopping it. And sometimes, he breaks. 

This time he breaks while washing his hair, he sets the product back down and half sits half collapses on the shower floor.  

It’s not like he wants to die exactly. But all of a sudden he can’t muster the energy to finish his shower, to reach up and turn the water off before it runs cold, to dress, or make himself breakfast, or go to work and get through today. And then he remembers he has to do the same thing tomorrow, and the day after too, for the rest of the week. And once this week finishes there’s another one right away, and he’ll have to go through the motions for another month, a year, the rest of his life. And how has anyone in the history of human existence ever had the energy to be able to do all of this. How can he live out the rest of his life when standing back up to finish washing his hair seems insurmountable.

He’s not sure how long he sits there, face pressed against the tile, water washing over him, exhaustion settled deep into his bones. But the water goes cold, and he can hear his comms beeping from the bedroom, and he can feel himself doze off uneasily.

His next moment of awareness comes with the water being shut off. But before he can contemplate why or by who he feels warm hands on him, one rests on his chest, and the other finds the pulse point at his neck. The first hand migrates to his forehead, and the second to his cheek. The sound reaches him slowly. “Juno. Juno no. Can you hear me? Juno. Juno. Juno. Juno.”

He blinks his eyes open and catches sight of Peter’s face, the deep worry etched into the lines on his brow, and unshed tears in the corners of his eyes. “Hey.” He mutters, not able to muster up a whole lot of volume. 

“What happened Juno? Are you hurt?”

He shakes his head  _ no. _

“Drugged?”

_ No. _

“Sick?”

_ No. _

“Drunk?”

_ No. _

“Then what? What happened? Who did this to you?”

“Nobody. ‘M just tired.”

“Tired?” Gently he helps Juno sit up. “How long has it been since you’ve slept?”

“Not that kind of tired.” He shakes his head and a shiver runs down his spine as he realises how cold he is. 

Peter frowns even deeper and yanks a towel off the hook to hand to him.

Slowly Juno towels himself off, the presence of another human making him want to at least pretend to be a functional human being.

With Peter’s help he makes it to the bed and he pulls some boxers on while Peter removes his own shirt and dress pants. Juno flops back into the bed, wiped from the effort and Peter sweeps the blanket over them both. Under the covers he spoons Juno with a ferocity resembling an octopus. He winds his arms tight around Juno’s waist and tangles their legs together. He presses kisses to Juno’s neck and one hand twines itself itself into Juno’s. 

Juno sighs deeply. Still exhausted, but comforted by all the contact points between him and Peter, and the pressure of his hug.

“Do you need anything, love?”

“No,” he mumbles.

“Alright, but please remember, if you need anything or if there’s anything I can do to help, you only have to ask.”

“Yeah, I... I love you Peter.”

“I love you too, dear.” 

He presses more kisses into Juno’s shoulder, his neck, the edge of his jaw. Juno sighs, and thinks, that just maybe, all the effort in the world is worth it to be able to have another moment like this.


End file.
